If I hadn’t looked it up, I wouldn’t have believed it: Even AMC’s Javelin outsold Plymouth’s 1968 Barracuda. Chrysler totally flubbed the pony car wars; they might as well have just sat it out. But then we would never have been able to savor the best one of them all.

Why was the Barracuda such a sales bust? It’s all in the basic body proportions. The original Barracuda, which beat the Mustang to the market by a couple of weeks, was very little more than a Valiant Signet with a fastback grafted on. No one could accuse a Mustang of looking like a Falcon with some lipstick, even if it was essentially a Falcon under the well re-arranged skin. More importantly: no one knew there was a Falcon hiding inside.

The Mustang had a completely new body, and most critically, had its passenger compartment lower to the ground and pushed back (at the expense of rear seat room), a lower cowl, and new proportions and styling all the way around. That was the essence of its success: an exclusive sporty personal coupe a secretary could afford. Being Falcon-based, its handling and other dynamic qualities were mostly still Falcon-like. But who cared? Certainly not when one pulled up in the driveway the first time and the neighbors looked on with envy.

The Barracuda was a whole lot more practical, but a rear seat big enough to seat three homies just was not the way to sell a pony car. To make things worse, the 1964.5 barracuda was technically a Valiant, and the script on the rear trunk lid clearly said so (this is a 1965).

From the spring of 1964 through the fall of 1966, the Mustang ruled with essentially no competition. The 1965 Barracuda managed 65k in sales, which would (pathetically) be its all-time best year. The ’65 Mustang racked up 681 k; even taking out the early “1964.5” models in that total, it was still 559k units, or almost 10:1 over the Barracuda.

The Mustang’s monopoly was set to expire in the fall of 1966, when both Chevrolet and Plymouth unveiled their new entries in the pony car market. Chevrolet’s ’67 Camaro was a clean sheet car from top to bottom, although its platform would be picked up by the ’68 Chevy II/Nova.

That gave the ’68 Nova coupe a decidedly sporty stance, with a long hood and a somewhat set-back passenger compartment, which did no favors to its space utilization. Needless to say, the Nova SS coupe undoubtedly stole some sales from the Camaro, as it was the cheapest way to get either the new 350 or the 396 under a hood. It was a formula Plymouth would take to even greater heights of success in just a few years later.

Despite the drubbing the gen1 Barracuda took, Chrysler once again took essentially the same course with the 1967 version. It was again very heavily based on their revised 1967 A-Body Valiant (’68 shown) and Dart. Yes, not quite as blatantly obvious, but the fundamental similarities could not be (and were not) ignored.

The external skin was smoothed out and plumped up some at the rear hips, in homage to a design trend started with the ’63 Pontiacs and brought to full glory in the ’65 GM full-size cars. But why did Plymouth think it was a good idea to give the Valiant a poor version of the Barracuda grille? Not that a different grille would have made that much of a difference. The ’67-’69 Barracuda had the same shortish hood, upright windshield, cowl height and almost certainly the same windshield as the Valiant.

The one big change was that there were now three body styles; a hardtop coupe and convertible to go along with the Sports Fastback. Looking at the convertible, it’s got “Valiant Signet” convertible written all over it, as there’s just none of the lower, longer hood, rakish windshield to say otherwise. And it’s important to note that there were no Valiant Signet convertibles or hardtop coupes for 1967, meaning that the Barracuda versions really were their direct successors.

The coupe was a handsome car, but again, it screamed “9/10 Satellite”, or just “Valiant coupe”. What it didn’t even whisper was “pony car”, never mind “Mustang”, devoid of the trademark long hood, short deck pproportions. Yet despite the model line being tripled in body styles, the new ’67 Barracuda was a dud. Yes, sales picked up a bit from the dismal 38k sold in ’66, up to 62k, but that was still below the ’65. And for 1968, that dropped back to 46k.

If someone had asked me which of the ’68 pony cars was the lowest selling, I would have said “Javelin”, and felt pretty comfortable with that guess. Not until I looked it up for this article did I realize how wrong that guess would have been. The ’68 Javelin outsold the Barracuda by 10k units (56k total), and it only had one body style.

Some have disagreed with me in the past, but there’s little doubt in my mind that the 1970 Hornet (lower) also shared a fair amount of basic body structure with the new 1968 Javelin. The Hornet’s wheelbase was one inch less, but their front and rear tracks are the same, and undoubtedly that also applies to key inner structures of their bodies/platforms. I saw it the day the Hornet came out, what with its obviously similar rear-set rear wheel, which gave the Javelin a very distinctive look as well as a roomy Barracuda-style rear seat. But in the front ends of these cars there is undoubtedly a relative greater difference, with the Javelin’s front wheel set a bit forward, and a lower hood line. Poor little AMC was able to give their pony car more differentiation from their compact sedan than Chrysler. And the results were in their sales.

And like the Camaro and Nova, the Hornet followed the Javelin, which made both the Camaro and Javelin unique for their intro year (or two). The Barracuda never had that.

The Barracuda is analogous to the Opel Manta, which also donned a more curvaceous skin and semi-fastback on the Opel Ascona’s body structure, whereas the Ford Capri went the Mustang route, and cleaned up in sales. But in both cases, they’re certainly not without their visual charms (well get to the mechanical ones shortly). The Barracuda’s new fastback roof was of course an improvement over the fish bowl of its predecessor, and makes for tasty view from the rear.

It’s not exactly an original, and I could probably spend half the night finding previous concept (and real) cars all over the globe that have used some variation of the theme. One very obvious one is this sketch by AMC’s design department (possibly by Dick Teague himself), from the 1961-1963 era, as one design direction considered for the 1965 Marlin. Needless to say, they should have gone that direction instead of the pathetic design they finally cobbled up. The similarities to the ’67 barracuda are so strong, it makes me wonder if someone from AMC’s design department got a job at Chrysler in about 1964 or ’65. Of course, that same roof did eventually re-appear on the 1970 AMC Matador and Ambassador coupes.

The interior of the Barracuda is a very attractive space, with the last hurrah of Chrysler’s golden age of interiors from the mid sixties. Lots of brightwork, and done in a way that exudes quality, considering its Valiant roots. But once again, it doesn’t exude “pony car”, as both the Mustang and Camaro had cockpits that accentuated a feeling of lowness and with a sports car flavor, unlike the continuous dash structure of the Barracuda, so obviously borrowed from the Valiant, save the different gauge cluster and a few other details.

The rear seat was as roomy as its predecessor’s and the combination of the fold down seat and removable partition to the “trunk” made for a very practical pony car, with a seven-foot long cargo area that could still accommodate two in a pinch. Ask me how I know. It essentially was a hatchback without the whole rear window opening up too.

The sitting and driving position is of course more upright, and the visibility was generally better over the shorter hood and through the taller windows. Shall I say “Valiant like” for the last time, as it’s getting a bit old?

Since we’re behind the wheel, it’s time to start talking about the driving experience instead of the visual one. Needless to say, Chrysler products had a well established rep for being generally better handling than their competitors. But the compact A-Body platform’s lead over its competitors was even greater than the larger cars. And for 1967, the chassis received some further improvements. The A-Bodies understeered less, had more composure, and were just all-round better at coping with the challenges beyond what the typical Falcon or Chevy II owner was likely to ask of it.

And those capabilities were increased very substantially in the Formula S versions, which came with a heavy duty suspension, firmer shocks, and a stabilizer bar. Disc brakes were optional, although the standard 10″ drums were better than average.

Wheels were stronger and wider, and shod with the new Firestone “Wide Oval” tires; red line E 70 x 14s according to the brochure, although these are F70 x 14s, looking very original nevertheless.

I’m also not sure whether these styled steel wheels are original, as the ’68 brochure only shows these four wheel covers available. But they might have been a mid-year intro; undoubtedly the Camaro’s styled steel Rally wheels forced Plymouth to make an effort to at least counter that design trend, even if there was nothing they could with the basic car.

Let’s not avoid this car’s best asset any longer: the new 340 CID (5.6 L) Commando V8. But before we indulge ourselves in that, we need to note that the Formula S also was available with the larger 383 Commando. But it was a mistake to order that heavier and poorer-breathing big block; not only did it adversely impact the Formula S’ class-leading handling, but it simply wasn’t any faster. And to add insult to injury, power steering was not available on the 383. This platform was never designed for the B-block V8s, and shoehorning the 383 into the Barracuda meant that there was no room for a power steering pump. The 383 was rated at 280 hp in 1967, and 300 in 1968.

The 340 actually appeared late in the 1967 model year, and it was a gem. An evolution of the 273/318 LA engine, the 340 was blessed with superbly breathing “X” heads, with large ports and 2.02″ intake valves and 1.60″ exhausts. It was crowned with a high-rise dual-plane intake manifold and a four-barrel Carter AVS carburetor. Motivating the valves were two different hydraulic cams, an aggressive 276/284-degrees duration version for the four speed, and a slightly milder version for the automatic. The fact that both versions were rated at 275 gross hp (@5000 rpm) is a tell-tale that this number is a tall tale.

NHRA upped that rating to 290 for stock drag race classification, and the insurance industry slapped a 325 hp number on it. The fact that it could outrun all matter of big-block cars made it clear that all of those numbers might still have been low. This engine is considered to be the finest small block V8 of the era; certainly the Z-28’s 302 (rated at 290 hp) made more power at its top end, but it had a radical mechanical cam that made little torque and power in the lower rev band, negating much of its prowess on the race track. The 340 was unquestionably the best all-round V8 of the pony car class of its time. It was tractable down low, yet would eagerly turn 6000 rpm at every shift without complaint.

Probably our vintage car magazine poster has a review of the Formula 340 S (or two) for us soon; I remember vividly reading the superlatives heaped upon it in the buff books. The combination of the best chassis with the best engine made it into a formidable giant killer with the ability to shut down not only the direct competition, but the best cars Europe had on tap too. A Formula 340 Barracuda four speed was right at the top of my wish list in 1968, along with the new BMW 2800. And they’re both still up there. Nothing has diminished the appeal of this exceptional car; without question the most capable American car of its time.

Which puts it in the same league as the 1965 Corvair, another dud in the marketplace. I called that “The Best European Car Ever Made In America“. Which makes the Barracuda Formula 340 the best American Car Made in America; well, at least in its time, which was short.

The new 1970.5 Camaro’s design has many influences, but there’s undoubtedly more than a bit of the Barracuda’s fastback there. The Camaro, with its new LT-1 350 V8 and superb handling basically had the Barracuda Formula 340’s torch passed to it, as the best all-round American sporty car of its time. It quickly displaced the Barracuda on my wish list, although today I’d give the ‘Cuda the nod.

Too bad that the new Camaro wasn’t the 1970 Barracuda, and that Chevy didn’t go down a different road. Then things might have turned out rather differently. Instead, Plymouth went with a bigger, heavier car that was basically a shortened mid-size Satellite, and aped the 1969 Camaro’s design. Ironic, isn’t it. The Camaro was a better 1968 Barracuda, and became an evergreen hit, and the new ‘Cuda was a bloated ’69 Camaro, and quickly died on the vine.

But all was not lost. The Barracuda Formula 340 reincarnated in the form of the Duster 340. It too was just an adaptation of the Valiant, but it didn’t even pretend to have a different front end. Its interior was black and dreary, but it was dirt cheap; there was nothing that could touch it in its performance-per-dollar formula. And with it, Plymouth basically killed the performance pony car market. So Plymouth had the last laugh after all, sort of. Those that wanted a stylish coupe in the 70s moved into the mid-size sector, and those that wanted a ball looked no further than than the Duster 340.

Once again, Chrysler was bailed out by its Valiant/Dart A-Bodies. The 1967-1969 Barracuda may have missed the mark in the marketplace, but they will always be revered as the finest examples of that versatile and evergreen platform.

114 Comments

Maybe it wasn’t such a mistake. Plymouth was focusing its performance efforts on the midsize Belvedere / Satellite, with the 426 Hemi and all sorts of “severe usage” ie dragstrip options. Ford wasn’t effectively competing in that size range.

True that, When I think of “Muscle Cars” only the GM an MOPAR midsizers pop into my head. Ford did own the “pony” segment. It does leave a lot of legendary “B” bodies as a result and Mustang did bloat to midsize anyway, Perhaps Plymouth was right to concentrate on its “B”s!

And the same pattern holds true today. Among the current Challenger/Mustang/Camaro trio, theyre all considered modern pony and/or muscle cars. Yet the Camaro/Mustang are clearly more ‘sports car’ in execution than the Challenger which is a solid old school muscle car. An 800 lb gorilla vs a pair of gazelles. But the fact that the Challenger is such a unique product is likely why its such a success. I prefer the Thor’s hammer approach to the katana anyway.

And for the same reason: FCA put way less effort in the Challenger (which is a coupe body stretched to fit a Charger/300 pan) than Ford or GM (which may be using another pan, but is seriously individualizing them).

During the sixties’ musclecar wars, no one played the market better than GM. Unlike Ford and Chrysler, they had the right cars at the right time, then exited the market exactly when the fad evaporated. Chrysler, although they had superior engines and engineering, did the usual following GM thing and lost their shirts by staying with it way too long. Ford, when they finally did field a solid entry (the 428 CobraJet), the party was virtually over.

Ford really didn’t care. They were too busy dominating NASCAR, and winning certain 24 hour races overseas….Hank the Duce was also too busy with his booze and hookers to notice. End of the day Ford was the real performance car company. Ask Dan Gurney. Even Richard Petty ran Ford’s in 1969

Great article and spot on. The fastback of this generation was the absolute top of the curve for A-body styling and performance—too bad it was obviously derived from grandma’s valiant 100 sedan. Can you imagine if they had restyled it more completely the way that Ford did the Falcon?! If they had gotten the pony car styling right this could have been a giant killer.

The second-generation Barracuda hardtop has a really lovely roofline and the tail treatment is nicely done. It’s let down by its hood-to-deck proportions and the front clip, which is a Valiant-like shape with what ends up feeling like an ersatz 1963–64 Pontiac grille.

I think the third-generation Barracuda also suffered from an unresolved-looking nose. The basic shape is fine (if rather exaggerated), but for some reason, none of the iterations of the grille and grille area detailing Plymouth tried ever looked quite right.

This was a great cc on an interesting car. I think you might get some blowback on the idea that a small block was the best pony car of 1968, but I think you are correct. The big blocks were just too much weight in a small car and led to pony cars that were just too big.

The vintage pictures are very evocative. The more formal lines and great interior allow one to almost picture the car as almost a mini Cutlass in mission. I wonder if a 225 with a four speed was still available with this style. Not quite as fast as the Firebird Sprint with the OHC 6, but perhaps an interesting package, especially for someone who keeps their car a long time.

The later E bodies were probably to heavy, especially for the 198. With a more Valiant like weight, the 60s Barracuda seems a better fit. So many Mopar owners enjoyed long service lives, My parents bought a Valiant and a Scamp, both slant six, in 1971 that served well into the eighties. A more deluxe interior and exterior and a 4speed to make the most out of the economical and performance aspects of the engine, would not have cost that much more and would have made a Barracuda a more comfortable and enjoyable commute for all those years. I may be confusing the attitude of the generations, often my parents seemed to feel their austerity was a way to show how much smarter they were.

Wow, I had no idea the Barracuda was a sales dud. Obviously the strong resemblance to a Valiant hurt it dearly, at least for the 1st generation. The Javelin’s higher sales numbers for 1968 MIGHT have been due to the Javelin’s all new design, though it’s hard to imagine there were more people willing to gamble on AMC’s new design rather than Plymouth’s excellent example.
If the Camaro/Firebird twins had debuted a year later, I wonder if there might have been a different sales picture. In 1967 potential buyers had 5 “new” designs to choose from. Even “latecomer” Pontiac outsold Plymouth in 67.
When I was in high school, a guy 1 year ahead of me got a new 66 Barracuda when he got his license. In his senior year he got a 68 Barracuda. Both were dark green fastbacks with white interiors and V8s. That guy was envied by all the “car nuts” at my school.
BTW, my DD in the mid 70s was a 69 Valiant Signet. I always thought it was a strange little car compared to the earlier models. Before the 67 re-design, Signets were hardtops and convertibles….my 69 was a 2 door sedan with chrome trim on the window frames to mimic a hardtop look. And while it had “bucket” seats, there was (obviously) no floor shifter or console. So I can’t really imagine why Plymouth dropped the Signet model, temporarily.

It looks to me like Chrysler stylists made a bet in 1964-65 when they were doing this car. Both the 65 Mustang and 65 Corvair had to be open secrets, with very different proportions and design themes. It is evident that Chrysler chose to copy the Corvair in the Barracuda hardtop and convertible. But for once, GM would not lead the style trend.

I have found the fastback as the only really attractive Barracuda of this generation. The others are not ugly, but come off as a Corvair clone. Frankly, it is amazing that Lynn Townsend authorized as much as he did to make these unique from the Valiant.

I am also another who would never have guessed that the Javelin outsold these.

I’ve long noted the Corvair resemblance, and assumed the non-pony-car long-deck proportions were intentional because they wanted a Corvair competitor, and the Corvair of course needed a long rear deck to house the engine. There’s a bit of both 1st and 2nd-gen Corvair coupes in the Barracuda notchback. The fastback was the Mustang competitor, though it was still not low-slung or distinct enough to be one.

I agree on the Corvair influence, though ChryCo clearly copied the wrong horse (pun intended). I think it is particularly ironic that the Barracuda was hurt in the marketplace due to its odd proportions, since Chrysler, under styling chief Virgil Exner, was a pioneering practitioner of the long hood/short deck look. It’s a shame he was fired (and erroneously blamed) for the shrunken 1962 cars, while the best elements of his leading-edge style were quickly dumped for copy cat executions. I would have loved to have seen how Exner would have handled the Barracuda design. Assuming he didn’t go crazy with quirky details, it could have been a stunning shape…

It’s unlikely Exner would have lasted long under the penny-pinching, conservative Lynn Townsend. Elwood Engel was a much better fit in that regard. Of course, the very nicely styled ’63 Valiant was all Exner, too, although Engel gets the credit for it. So one has to wonder how the ’64 Barracuda might have ended up if he had been allowed to stay on as Chrysler’s styling head.

In fact, is it possible that the huge, compound glass rear window of the Barracuda was actually an Exner idea before he left? It seems exactly like the sort of thing Exner would come up with, considering his contribution to the ‘is it coming or going’ wraparound rear window of the ’47 Studebaker Starlight coupe (for which Loewy gets all the credit).

OTOH, Exner’s final car was the grotesque Stutz Blackhawk, so who knows?

The rear window of the first-generation Barracuda had originally been designed by Exner for the 1962 Plymouth Fury Super Sport. This car was supposed to be a top-of-the-line, sporty version of the Fury in the same vein as the 1958 Chevrolet Impala.

That car was killed when President William Newberg ordered that all of Chrysler’s planned 1962 full-size cars be downsized. The window treatment of the Super Sport (Chevrolet wasn’t yet using the name when the Plymouth version was being designed) ended up on the first Barracuda.

Frankly, it is amazing that Lynn Townsend authorized as much as he did to make these unique from the Valiant.

My thought as well. Townsend, being a bean counter, would have been more concerned with cost than car guys like Iaccoca or Ed Cole, and this was the period when Roy Abernethy was making his kamikaze run at the big three with probably less than 10% of their R&D budget, after whiffing with the equally timid Marlin.

I had a 66 Belvedere, and if Mopar ever made a Rambler, in the bad sense of the word, that was it, tho the broken leaves in the springs (1 of 5 on one side, 2 of 5 on the other) might have contributed to the wobbly handling.

68 Mustang had a lock on appearance – Ford really pulled out the stops in detailing their Pony Cars in that time frame – but their small block engines were ‘Meh’, soldiering on with the so-so 302, waiting for the 351s. Fords also weren’t the best handling of the Pony Cars.

The Mopar 340 on the other hand was a great small block performance engine and the torsion bar suspension was good for the era.

One philosophical thread that ran through contemporary car mags in the day suggests they felt “dirty”” giving high marks to a mass produced car with no rear legroom. Unless I’m dreaming, I recall an article in one of them that lauded the ’67 Barracuda as a master stroke of design when introduced. They were so enthralled with the shape and the three body concept that they let their art director loose, treating the story to a very unusual, stylized page design with sharp black pen and ink drawings of the car laid over a multicolored, psychedelic background. I’m paraphrasing, but the subtitle of the piece was something like, “Plymouth raises the pony car stakes with the new Barracuda… who will counter?”

I’ve always been a bigger fan of the “notchback” Barracuda bodies of this era than the fastbacks. The Javelin had a better “cuda” front-end treatment than the Plymouth, but its weird pseudo-fastback (much like the Nova) styling is the one thing that turns me off. If the Javelin had opted for the Barracuda’s notchback roofline I’d be all over it.

This car really works for me, except maybe the front is too much frumpy Valiant.

Plymouth’s take on the Pony car obviously didn’t work on the sales charts, but you have to wonder, what would have worked? When you have two dominant cars like the Mustang and Camaro, the market space left over is marginal. Trying something different like this, that offered a more practical package, is the sort of gamble you make looking for a breakout hit – sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn’t.

I became car conscious around 1970 (age 6), and the ‘cuda was always an afterthought with a funny name. You look back now, and did the frumpy first year version with the fishy name sort of doom this car no matter what was done to it? The Pony cars sold to people that wanted a cool factor, and the ‘cuda was always swimming upstream.

Plymouth rejiggered the A car formula again and came up with the freshly named Duster – which sold as fast as they could build them.

You have to wonder if Chrysler’s product planners pulled their hair out over the success of the Duster when it was nothing more than a rehash of the 1st generation Barracuda formula that bombed so miserably. And, with the Duster, that success really hurt because it cut so deeply into B-body performance car sales and (especially) the brand-new E-body. Ironically, even though the Duster was a hit, the guys responsible for it weren’t well-liked by many in the Chrysler executive suites, especially the E-body champions.

Chrysler’s top management probably wasn’t too enthusiastic about the people behind the Duster because the entire program had been done on the sly.

The original plan was for Plymouth to facelift the Valiant for the 1970 model year. A group of product planners, however, cooked up the Duster in secret. They even essentially “tricked” an engineer into making the Duster’s curved side glass possible (it was curved more radically than the side glass used on the Valiant and Dart). Plymouth used the money earmarked for the Valiant facelift to bring out the Duster.

That was a risky move, but the Duster was a smash hit – it helped Plymouth regain third place in sales for 1971. The Valiant, meanwhile, continued to sell well even without any major changes. Combined Valiant and Duster sales helped Plymouth regain third place in sales again for 1974 – the last time the division would ever hold that position.

Yeah, it’s funny how the Duster finally got the 1st/2nd-gen Barracuda concept right. It was as Valiant-based as the first Barracuda, but somehow the Duster looked like it was designed that way from the start where the Barracuda would never look like it did if it were designed from scratch. The rounded roof of the Duster along with the raised rear end did a much better job of hiding the carryover Valiant bodywork elsewhere, including the doors. The front was still a bit boxier than the rest of the car, but overall it gelled nicely. The Duster would even offer the all-important folding rear seat. It still wasn’t a pony car, but it didn’t have to be because by that time looking vaguely like a scaled-down, cheaper Chevelle SS was enough to be perceived as youthful and sporty.

By 1970, insurance rates for young men driving two door coupes Iike the Mustang, Camaro, et al, were through the roof. Cars like the Nova SS, the Duster 340 and the Hornet SC 360 (let’s face it, the Maverick and Comet never came from the factory with enough firepower to compete with the other cars) were meant to skirt the insurance rules.

I briefly owned a 1975 Dodge Dart Sport with the 360 (smog) motor; it was as practical as any Dart could have been, but with that V8 motor, it could move. Like others said, it was a re-hash of the Barracuda recipe, but much more acceptable to insurers and owners alike.

The fastback Duster and Dart hit the other three where they weren’t. Maybe, outside of the Nova SS, the competition faded quickly after 1974 with the first gas crisis and everyone went to Broughamification of their cars to compete in the brave new world of the “Me decade”. Our loss really. Nothing quite like these cars have re-surfaced.

Indeed, the Duster’s extreme curved side glass and frameless doors are really what set it apart from the competition, all of which had much straighter door glass along with door frames. The Duster was a sporty ‘coupe’ while the other compacts were stodgy 2-door sedans, and it was an easy decision to choose a Duster in lieu of a B- or E-body Mopar. The Duster really was the second coming of the original Barracuda, only it was executed much better and into a time when there were no other ‘true’ ponycars left in the size of the original Mustang.

You should have been a Pittsburgh Pirates fan during the 60’s. Their radio broadcaster, Bob Prince, would deliberately mispronounce the car’s name, changing it to “Baccaruda”. And he did it for years. As the Pittsburgh area Plymouth dealer were major sponsors of the team, they must have sold more than a few cars.

Then again, Bob Prince could get away with just about anything. He was more beloved than the team itself.

I quite admire old musclecar enthusiasts that spend the few extra shekels to get period-correct, reproduction redline tires for their cars. It’s the kind of small touch that really shows how dedicated they really are.

One of my dad’s friends had a 340 Formula S Barracuda with 4-speed stick “back in the day”. My dad said it was wicked fast, but his friend abused it and blew the engine. It never ran the same after the dealership replaced the engine.

While it wasn’t as bad as the Hemi, blowing the high-winding 340 wasn’t that uncommon. Although they were a bit slower, a more mundane 383 or 440 had better longevity and could be considered a better choice for the long haul (unless you wanted power steering or A/C in an A-body).

In this case, I suspect the guy wasn’t that good working the 4-speed. According to my dad, his friend once talked himself into a grudge race against a Torino, then threw the keys at my dad and asked him to drive the car because he was better at rowing through the gears. The Barracuda beat the Torino. 🙂

Normally I’m a big block fan, but in one of these small cars I think a 340 with a stick sounds like the way to go.

If you tweak the linkage to adjust the shift points, you can just leave the 727 in Drive and let it sort itself out when you mash the go-pedal. Especially after installing a shift kit and a part-throttle kickdown module.

mark reimer

Posted October 14, 2015 at 9:29 AM

Yeh, the pre-1971 TorqueFlites definately benefitted from the part-throttle mod; eliminated a lot of around town hand shifting.

Loco Mikado

Posted October 14, 2015 at 5:40 PM

As much as I love TorqueFlite’s the only transmission failures I have had were both TorqueFlite’s. They were both 904’s and slant 6’s. I have owned 11 or 12 727’s that could take anything I threw at them. Mark, I know how you know this about shifting.

Wasn’t the Chrysler four-speed noted for being heavy and recalcitrant to shift? (The Mopars I’ve driven of this vintage have all had three on the tree or TorqueFlite, so I’ve never tried the four-speed.) My understanding was that dragstrip-type shifting was in the “arm-wrestling with bears” category, which seems like it would make it easy to miss a shift in extremis.

Loco Mikado

Posted October 14, 2015 at 5:50 PM

I have driven almost all the 4 speeds of the era – M21, M22, Mopars and Fords. The Mopar was a bit notchy when shifting, the M22 in a ’67 Vette with 475 hp in front of it was easier. A lot of it also depended on the driver.

XR7Matt

Posted October 14, 2015 at 7:55 PM

I’ve always got the impression from people of the era that the Ford Toploader and the Mopar A833 were the best 4 speeds, and the GM boxes the worst, with the exception of the rare M22 equipped cars. But that could be more from a durability perspective than anything. I’ve never heard about one being that substantially better or worse to shift than the other, if there was I’d wager it was the more the fault of factory designed linkage, Hurst became factory equipped almost across the board in the hot models for a reason.

rudiger

Posted October 14, 2015 at 8:26 PM

Yeah, Chrysler’s New Process 4-speeds were hampered for nearly the entire sixties by the horrid Inland shifters. Supposedly, one of the main problems was some sort of Chrysler corporate edict that required the shifter to have a reverse lock-out on the shift handle. So, the Inlands had a hollow shaft, making a shifter that was a far cry from the solid Hurst units everyone else used.

Craig

Posted October 18, 2015 at 12:08 AM

The ’69 225 Slant 6 ‘three on the tree’ is very slow between changes ..it’s quicker actually to double de-clutch to ease the next cog into place (although having Falcon syncro rings might not be helping – lol)

I can’t comment on the Baracuda, but my parents had a 1967 belvedere with a 383 and torqueflite. I spent many nights trying to beat a friends duster 340, 4 speed, stoplight to stoplight. It was utter futility. the little 340 just kicked sand in my face and walked away.

I’m surprised to hear that the Javelin outsold the Barracuda in ’68. My father’s very first car was a ’68 Barracuda notchback w/a 318 V8, which I still have fond memories of, unlike his second & last car, a ’73 T-Bird, which are a bit more mixed.

Definitely a good-looking car, but I can imagine that it suffered big losses to the Mustang and Camaro among style-first buyers. Besides the too close to the Valiant nose treatment, I also think there’s something very odd going on with the front wheel placement. The nose was too short already, and the front wheels were set fairly far back, with too much front overhang. Almost an early predictor of “FWD proportions” even though the rears were obviously the driven wheels.

I’m not a photoshop artist, but it would be interesting to see this car in side profile with the wheels moved forward in the fenders, and then a little extra length between the cowl and the wheels added in.

Back in the day Mustangs and Camaros were literally everywhere and Barracudas were as scarce as hen’s teeth. Generation 2 looks very nice and was no doubt superior to its pony car competitors in many ways. However, I think they flopped because while the Mustang and Camaro were viewed as all new sports cars with their own culture and identity, the Barracuda was looked upon as a sporty Valiant. It didn’t help that the first version was even classified as a Valiant with Valiant badging. Dealers couldn’t get the pony car demographic to even look at them and they were basically a non-starter.

Chrysler did better a bit later tapping into a brand new market – the cheap muscle car. Many young males with limited incomes couldn’t afford a GTO, Mustang GT or Camaro SS. They could afford a Duster 340 or Nova 396, and these proved very popular until the Arabs and insurance companies brought the party to a crashing halt a few years later.

Even with its resemblance to the contemporary Valiant, the styling of this car hits the sweet spot for me. It’s definitely better-looking than the first-generation Chevrolet Camaro and Pontiac Firebird, and equal to the Ford Mustang. The fastback is quite handsome, as is the convertible. Even the split grille works on this car.

Regarding the wheels on this particular car – I believe that Chrysler Corporation introduced them for the 1970 model year. But they are often fitted to 1967-69 Barracudas and performance editions of the Dodge Dart from those years.

Chrysler Corporation’s big news in wheel design was a handsome, cast-aluminum wheel that was shown in the 1969 Barracuda catalogue. Unfortunately, there was a problem with the lug nuts coming lose and the wheels cracking under various circumstances. Chrysler Corporation mounted an intense recall of these cast-aluminum wheels, including those installed on vehicles at the factory. The wheels were removed from vehicles and sent back to the corporation. A few sets do survive today, and are worth a considerable amount.

Here is a photo of the wheel in that 1969 catalogue (lower left corner of the page):

LOL that brochure. “4-SPEED: If you’re a bachelor, get our optional 4-Speed transmission with its standard Hurst shifter. If you’re married, get it anyway. What the heck.” “WOODGRAIN STEERING WHEEL: It isn’t really wood. But it looks and feels like it. Fortunately, it won’t warp or crack. And you’ll never have to worry about termites.”

I wish today’s cars still offered so many standalone “personalization” options that you needed 5 pages of a 12-page brochure to describe them.

I owned a 69 Road Runner and a 69 Barracuda at the same time. (I’m that way I guess) The two cars were night and day, Road Runner was very fast, preferred to be driven that way straight, didn’t have power anything so it was a real chore to drive it. The Barracuda (dark blue fastback) with it’s 318, power brakes and steering was very civilized and easy and fun to drive, although I will concede the steering was typically way to light. A valid point was that the Barracuda was 100 percent stock, the Road Runner (Lemon Twist yellow with GTX stripes) was not.

That’s a great point about the hot, new, bargain-basement 1968 Road Runner sitting right next to the equivalently-priced Barracuda in the same showroom. Why buy a Valiant-based Barracuda when you could get a larger Road Runner for the same price?

Ironically, Chrysler would repeat the same inequity a scant two years later when the hot Duster 340 would be sitting right next to the larger, but considerably more expensive, new E-body Barracuda. The A-body Barracuda was a really nice car (much nicer than the later E-body), but Chrysler kept shooting themselves in the foot (like Chrysler always did back in the day).

Excellent write-up, Paul. And I agree 100% on your perspective. The 340 in an A body is the pinnacle of what a ’60s ponycar could be. Sure, the hype surrounding the Mustang and even Camaro meant they outsold these. But even though these sold in much smaller numbers, ‘flop’ is probably inaccurate. Im sure Ma Mopar still made money, and just as important Im sure anyone who can pop their own hood and check the oil knows what a Barracuda is. Hell, I didn’t know the name derived from a fish until I was in high school. So these cars are an enduring legend, some 50 years later.

I have to wonder…what if the 2nd gen Barracuda notch and convertible outright replaced the comparable Valiants in the lineup? The fastback could have been reworked a bit more into a proper pony and those sexy base models would’ve breathed new life into the Valiant name…back to its original intended position as a semi-premium and desireable car. Hell…what if that hardtop notch would’ve sprouted a 4 door h/t variant, replacing the 2/4 door sedans which were much more staid? Likewise, the 3rd gen Cuda should have been the Challenger (its a bit nicer proportioned than the Chally) and that should’ve replaced the Coronet coupes/Super Bees entirely. The tradeoff being that the Duster shoudlve been the Barracuda all along, with no need for the Scamp or Demon which were redundant swapparoos anyway. But its all speculation for the hell of it….

The small block Mopars (273/318/340)of this time period all had a distinctive “whirrrrring”, oiled metal sliding on oiled metal sound emanating from their engines. A combo of alternator, fan belt, engine cooling fan blades? A rather pleasant, comforting automotive reference.

To a “Mopar Man” of this time period, hearing one drive by today is a flashback in time to the 1960’s/early 1970’s.

Along with the distinctive sounds coming from the engine compartment, the other sensory intake from those great old Mopars is the aroma of a well-worn Mopar interior, particularly the vinyl ones. For those who experienced the sounds and smells of a late-sixties/early-seventies Mopar back in the day, it’s truly nirvana, and just sitting in one can be a trip back to a much happier, simpler time.

That alternator pitch/whir, the quiet-but-still-macho rumble of a Mopar factory exhaust system (with those rectangular shaped chrome exhaust tips!), the “oooooooooohhhh” sound of a TorgueFlite winding up in first gear, The ROAR of the secondaires kicking in from the Thermoquad 4 barrel carb’s secondaries, the “nang-nang-nang” “Highland Park warble” of a Mopar gear reduction starter, the aroma mentioned by Rutiger…..Fords and Chebbies seemed bland and blahhhhhhh to me wayyyy back then.

Don’t forget the chattering heat riser. Or the “crack” sound from the leaf springs when you sat down in the car on a cold morning. And the little “clank” from the drivetrain when the car went into reverse.

True dat! I “coat hanger wired” more than one heat riser into silence and played with the carb’s curb idle setting, going as slow as possible to minimize that annoying “clunk/lurch” from drive to reverse.

Perhaps it didn’t get cold enough in New Orleans to experience the leaf spring noise you describe?

jpcavanaugh

Posted October 14, 2015 at 2:16 PM

I did the same thing on the idle, but the problem was that the ammeter would go into discharge at every stoplight, and the car would repeatedly stall on cold wet days after the choke came off but before full operating temp. Tradeoffs.

The spring cracking noise was something that I always attributed to wet leaf springs that would freeze overnight, so you probably didn’t get that in Nawlins. BOC probably got it in Canada, though. 🙂

My gramma had a dark green ’71 Coronet sedan with black vinyl interior and 318. I can STILL recall the smell of the inside of that car! At the time, it was just an old sedan to me. Ive come to realize that its one of many Mopars that planted the seed in my head over my life.

As a fan of both the early ‘Cuda and Javelin, even I was surprised AMC “won” that sales battle. I’d love a second gen fastback but try as I might, I just can’t warm to the looks of the notchback and convertible for the reasons Paul outlined in the article. A 340 4 speed could probably sway me away from a fatback though. I’ve also never noticed the similarity between the first gen Camaro and 3rd gen Barracuda, that explains why I’ve never liked either.

I’ve never seen that early Marlin sketch before, it looks way better than than the production Marlin. I’ve seen the Tarpon prototype, (pic below) which accurately predicts the roof line of the Marlin, albeit on a Rambler American platform. The Tarpon made more sense than the eventual Marlin but it too would had suffered from the same issues as the Valiant Barracuda.

The Tarpon made more sense than the eventual Marlin but it too would had suffered from the same issues as the Valiant Barracuda.

The switch from the American to Classic platform was a necessity. That generation of American was designed to be a small cheap (and narrow) car and apparently did not have room for a V8. AMC made a very expensive revision to the front end part way through the run to make room for the V8. The Classic platform could accommodate anything AMC made.

I don’t think AMC had to make “an expensive revision” on the American. The 327 V8 was clearly too wide (and heavy) to fit, but the new 292/343 V8 was much more compact and fit very readily in the American’s engine compartment.

I don’t think AMC had to make “an expensive revision” on the American.

I could be mistaken.

The Wiki entry talks about the engine compartment of the American being lengthened 3″ so there was room for an a/c compressor on the 7 main bearing sixes.

The Marlin came out in 65. The gen 2 V8s came out in 66, so the only V8s available when the Marlin came out were the gen 1 family, which fit fine in the Classic. That would leave AMC with either a pony car that only had a six, or losing a year of sales waiting on the 290/343, maybe losing more because the Wiki article says the 290 came out mid year, while the 66 Ambassador I saw at the local AMC meet last summer had a 287.

I may have confused those two bits.

Steve

Posted October 14, 2015 at 7:58 PM

One tidbit I remember from Tom McCahill’s test of the Marlin. He had two, so he flogged one around Daytona while someone else, maybe his stepson Brooks, zipped the other one. Tom noticed when he was running behind the other Marlin, the exhaust sounded like (words to the effect) a tornado being forced through a keyhole, so he figured the exhaust system was not as free flowing as it should have been for the 327.

Nelson James

Posted October 15, 2015 at 1:51 PM

I guess they could have come out with a Tarpon 6 in ’65 and a Tarpon V8 in ’66 1/2. Not ideal, but neither is trying to sell a sporty car with a Rambler nameplate. Not to mention that crazy roof treatment. The car from the early sketch however, may have had a shot.

Steve

Posted October 15, 2015 at 10:47 PM

I guess they could have come out with a Tarpon 6 in ’65 and a Tarpon V8 in ’66 1/2. Not ideal, but neither is trying to sell a sporty car with a Rambler nameplate.

Not only a Tarpon that was 6 cylinder only, but 6 only with no A/C available. The Tarpon brand would have been totally destroyed before the 290 ever saw the light of day. It amazes me they made the 64 American so short nosed. The 7 main bearing 6es had to be in development when the American was in development. It’s unimaginable that the Rambler big thinkers would either forget the new engines were longer than the old 4 bearing 196, or assume that no one that would buy an American would ever want A/C

Agree on the sporty car with Rambler nameplate dilemma. Not that some of AMC’s other model names were all that inspiring. When McCahill tested the Marlin, he commented on it’s Classic roots and said of the Classic badge “stiff enough to gag a bishop”, and McCahill was a pretty consistent fan of AMC products.

It was hard to pedal back from the Valiant based Barracuda. Other than the rear window, it was a Signet with a fastback roof. [or a Rambler Classic in AMC’s case] After three years it was still a “Valiant” in the public’s mind with the makeover in 1967.

Taken on it’s own, it was a great alternative to the Mustang and Camaro.

I had never appreciated the just right look of the 67 hardtop coupe until the pictures presented today. It’s just right where the fastback always looked top heavy.

Plymouth showed a concept car in 1967 called the Barracuda Formula SX. It was a great looking design that had better proportions than the production car. It’s a shame they didn’t follow this direction, as these looks coupled with the Barracuda’s exemplary performance would have made a knock-out…

I see a lot of the 1968 GM A-bodies in that car. The back, in particular, bears more than a passing resemblance to the 1968 Oldsmobile Cutlass.

That car was styled with the assistance of a designer who had left GM for Chrysler. When it debuted on the show circuit, GM was supposedly not very happy about it, given its strong resemblance to the upcoming 1968 intermediate line.

The work of Joe Herlitz. The brief was three options. One based on a carryover body as per Paul’s example. The second was all-new except the carryover windscreen, and the third was a completely new shape. The SX was option three.

Seems like in a past CC on the 2nd generation Barracuda, someone recounted a story on how Pontiac threatened legal action if Chrysler either built or even continued to show the concept Formula SX on the showcar circuit because it so closely resembled what would be the soon-to-be-released 1968 Pontiac intermediates.

You can’t see it in the rear perspective photo, but the front end of the SX had a decidedly 1968 Pontiac Lemans look to it, too.

In an industry where companies routinely copy each other’s styling (particularly Chrysler using GM’s last year’s styling), an ‘industrial espionage’ case would have been fascinating. I would imagine that just the threat, alone, from mighty GM was enough for Chrysler to back-off the SX and wait before they used anything that looked too similar to an upcoming GM design.

Both the 1st and 2nd generation Barracuda were great looking cars. I really like the interior as well. The second gen Coupe is a car that I really don’t recall seeing, really is a looker as well. Under rated cars, for sure. I do see as cjiguy pointed out, how the Road Runner would have pulled a lot of would be buyers away from it. Always really have had a attraction to the 1st gen especially. The gold color really looks good on the pictured ’68. Lot’s of good point’s in Paul’s article. A Formula S 340 in either auto or 4 speed version would be a fun driver. The very low sales are surprising, but as pointed out there was lot’s of good competition out there back in the day.

I’m a fan of the “maximum man, minimum mechanicals” approach so to me the Barracuda proportions are a feature not a bug. I’m not sure if the original Mustang itself would’ve been improved by being locked into the 60-65 Falcon hood length and dash-to-front-axle, but it wouldn’t have been hurt.

Not to mention the fallout from the Mustang’s success; the entire domestic auto industry applied long hood/short deck proportions to EVERYTHING and pulled space utilization to an all-time low just in time for the first gas crunch.

I remember Tom McCahill commenting “who would believe that a car with a puritanical name like Plymouth would be any good? Would the Javelin have outsold it (I’m surprised at that as well) if the Javelin had been tagged as a Rambler? Would the Barracuda have sold better if marketed as a Dodge?

I liked the styling of this generation of Barracuda, but my only source of opinion at that time was McCahill who gave a 273 powered 67 edition a lukewarm review. In addition, my Dad’s 69 Fury was a lemon of significant proportions, so, outside of the 66 Belvedere, which was entirely a stopgap and never engendered any affection, I never considered a Mopar for long term ownership.

I was going to make an observation, or ask a question as to why there wasn’t a Dodge equivalent to the Barracuda, it seems like a pretty significant omission.

Reading the low production numbers explains why they are so seldom-seen today. I expect the number of coupes sold was pretty small. It really seems like these were left behind in the evolution of the pony car, staying with the original smaller size.

As for best small-block V8, I think the 351 Cleveland makes a pretty good case. In the penultimate version used in the 1971 GT-HO Phase III Falcon they fitted a 6150 rpm limiter after having too many of the previous version blow. If you took the limiter off they would see 7000 rpm, or 154 mph at the Bathurst 500. Officially rated at 300hp, it seems that 380hp was more like it with the “QC” option that was basically a fully balanced and blueprinted motor.

During the mid-1960s, Lynn Townsend was trying to enforce more separation between Plymouth and Dodge, and move Dodge slightly more upmarket.

Dodge did want a version of both the first- and second-generation Barracudas, but Townsend specifically said, “no.” The first Dodge Charger was given to Dodge as a substitute. Note that the Charger is based on the intermediate chassis, while the Barracuda is based on the compact chassis, which fits in with the attempt to reorient Dodge’s market position compared to Plymouth.

With the debut of the Mercury Cougar for 1967, it was apparent that there was a market for a more luxurious pony car – hence, the first Dodge Challenger.

It wasn’t just the 1967 Cougar that helped get Dodge a ponycar; the 1967 Pontiac Firebird was also aimed upmarket. I’m certain that the introduction of both the Cougar and Firebird easily swayed Townsend to not only produce a Dodge version of the new 1970 E-body, but to give it a wheelbase that was 2″ longer than the Plymouth (110″ vs. 108″).

John H

Posted October 15, 2015 at 10:00 PM

Thanks for the info guys, it certainly would have been ‘interesting times’ at Chrysler in those days with the fighting between Dodge & Plymouth.

I have fond memories of this generation of Barracuda. A family friend had a 1967, with the 273 and four speed. Back in the mid-1970’s his was the first car I had ever seen with a 200 watt stereo and four speakers in it, in addition to the fact that he could make the car do the most fantastic burnouts. I guess that’s when I became fascinated with fastback styled cars; the Barracuda had a lot of usable space behind the front seats. To this day, I like my performance with a bit of utility. With that in mind, I’d like to find a Malibu Maxx SS for sale soon…

Add me to the list of shocked, shocked readers to find out the Javelin beat the Barracuda in sales. While I really like the Javelin and that same generation AMX, I would have imagined that Chrysler, which usually was in third place in sales would have done the same that point in time.

Forced to make a choice of 1968 ponycars? Javelin first, Cougar second, Firebird third, Barracuda (hardtop) fourth. Mustang and Camaro are not quite on the radar here.

I like these but I have to say if I were plucking down the money in 68 it still would likely be my last choice. Keep in mind, I personally don’t subscribe to the phallic dash to axle ratio = beautiful car mantra that many point out, so this car shouldn’t have trouble winning my lust, but it’s details let it down. I think the chrome looks a bit chintzy honestly, from the clunky old valiant A pillars and vent windows, to the gaudy dash chrome, to those tacked on faux hood vents. What I find most strikingly unappealing with it’s proportions isn’t the aeformentioned(and overrated) dash to axle ratio, it’s the sheer length of the things in relation to their width. Mustangs, Camaros the Javelin, 70 E bodies(despite the girth they are actually quite shorter than the 69) all have more of a close coupled, somewhat square overall profile, these second gen barracudas don’t, they, especially in “coupe” form look like a 2/3rds scale Satellite 2 door. It has all the same problems the large fastbacks do(first gen Charger, Marlin, 68-69 big Fords), inexplicably without being big.

These are the cars to have after the fact though for all their aeformentioned good traits. Their values even today are much more reasonable than the E cars, Mustangs fastbacks and Camaros that are all fetching ludicrous prices, just for the derelicts. If you wanted to jump on the ponycar bandwagon in 67, they weren’t great, if you wanted an otherwise cool car with substance, you can’t go wrong.

The article isn’t clear about the Javelin having its own body structure, like the Mustang and Camaro, No numbers, but it definitely did. I thought it was the best of the three. Even the second generation Barracuda used the same internal body structure as the Valiant. The others were just on the compact platforms. Mustangs even had a Falcon dashboard, although of course it was several inches lower in the different and lower body. The Camaro and Javelin had their own dashboard designs.

Love these. I also didnt realize that the Javelin outsold it. The fastbacks look great from any angle but I never got why they sold a notchback. I always thought the proportions were odd and I’m not a fan of convertibles.

I do understand the lack of sales though. As good and capable of a performer as the 340 cars are (Ive owned several; a 68 Dart, 2 71 Dusters, and a 72 Challenger but never a Barracuda) but if you were looking for a straight line street car, it was just as fast as a 383 Road Runner, which was the same price for a bigger car and arguably had more quarter mile potential. 340 A-bodies are probably the best balanced performance cars of the musclecar era though.

I didnt read all of the comments but did anyone mention that the first factory Hemi Barracuda was available in ’68?

Those 1968 Hemi-Cudas and Hemi-Darts were hand-built (by Hurst), race-only specials. They were street legal only in the most technical definition; they even came with disclaimers saying they weren’t intended to be driven on the street. They had no warranty, only something like 50 of each model were built, and they were quite expensive (seems like something around $5k in 1968 dollars). They used Dodge A-100 van seats and didn’t even have roll-up front windows, instead using a seat-belt strap to hold the special, thin glass in the up position. They didn’t even come in any color other than white, and, even then, the lightweight hood and front fenders were in grey primer.

To expound a bit further, of the factory race-only ponycars that were available to the general public (at least in theory), those being the 1968 Hemi Dart/Cuda, 1968 CobraJet Mustang, and 1969 COPO Camaro, the Mopars were the most brutal and least civilized, with the offerings from Ford and GM at least being streetable with the standard creature comforts that the Mopars deleted. The determining factor on this would be dependent on what NHRA class, i.e., modifications, would be permitted. In that regard, the Mopars wouldn’t have done well in the Pure Stock class, or any which did not permit exhaust or tire changes from stock. The Hemi cars came with a rudimentary exhaust of just a couple mufflers behind the exhaust manifolds because they also came with a set of headers in the trunk, the theory being that the headers would quickly replace the stock units. Likewise, the Mopars got the smallest wheel/tire combination from the factory since the class they would be running would allow a switch to drag slicks. In effect, the Dart and Cuda just got enough of an exhaust and tires that would allow them to be rolled off the truck, which would then be changed for track duty. It should also be mentioned that the Dart got radiused rear wheel wells for the bigger race tires, too, as well as manual valve bodies for the automatics (which included a reverse shift pattern). The Ford and Chevy, while not as fast in the Super Stock class, would be more effective in the Pure Stock categories.

Interestingly, as fast as these cars were, they still weren’t as quick as the old Mopar Max Wedge Stage 3 cars from the early sixties. Of course, those were also not suited for street use, with one of their features being a 13.5-1 compression ratio, meaning they would barely idle.

I’m bookmarking this great post for future reference. The first time a saw a 2nd-gentle Barracuda fastback as a kid in the 80’s, I became obsessed with it. Gorgeous style, at least from a rear 3/4 view. The thing that kills the mood a little is the awful A-pillar / vent window combo. I remember the point at which I found the notchback attractive – it was like when I had mastered my appreciation of sushi instead of finding it gross.